


Jackie and Donna Leave the Ruined Dress Rehearsal

by periwinklepromise



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: 06x24, Abandonment Issues, Angst, Canon Divergence, Canon Quotations, Cuddling, Established Relationship, F/F, FIx It, Fic published in two parts, Going Mobile, Mostly Platonic Bedsharing, Not Eric Friendly, One Shot, Show Quotations, This fic is much sadder than my other fics, breaking up, for Eric/Donna, for Jackie/Donna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 11:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15728718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepromise/pseuds/periwinklepromise
Summary: When Eric doesn't show up to the dress rehearsal, Jackie does her best to comfort Donna.





	1. The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue is taken from the show. Original dialogue is present throughout the work.

“Alright, look, I'm gonna go pick up my dress. And I'm gonna try not to look prettier than you, but I can't promise!” Jackie warned Donna, getting up and scampering out.

Donna moved to her closet. Held her wedding dress out carefully, considering. It had been too tight earlier, in Kitty's kitchen, she couldn't _breathe_. The dress, the trailer, the wedding, it was too much, too heavy, suffocating. “Oh god, I can't do this,” she admitted. She snatched up her getaway suitcase, moved to her bed, and started shoving clothes inside. She had to get out, had to get out right now. 

She ran to her bathroom to grab the basics, struggled with the zipper on the suitcase because it kept jamming, dammit, _come on_ , and then she was racing down the stairs, not caring if Bob and Pam heard her or not, not stopping to see if they had.

Donna dropped her keys as she fumbled at the ignition, her hands were shaking and it was hard to shift, but dammit, a few more minutes and she'd be out of this town, far away from this giant mistake she had almost made.

Almost.

God, she couldn't do _this_ either. Not to Eric. He was her best friend, guy next door, always there and so always there for her. She could do this, for him. She'd done everything in the relationship this far, for him, to keep him happy. That might be enough. It would have to be enough.

And if it wasn't, she could at least do him to courtesy of telling him to his face that she couldn't marry him. 

She had to drive back home to find a dress to wear, some black thing she'd worn to a funeral for Bob's friend from the National Guard. She didn't bother with makeup, she was already so late, but she splashed some cold water on her face to reduce the redness – had she been crying? Donna hadn't realized. 

She hurried into the church, fixing her dress. “Sorry I'm late,” she muttered, praying no one would be too angry, or worse, suspicious. The whole gang was there, except Kelso of course, who was busy with Brooke. Kitty was rambling, relieved that “Eric and Donna are here!”

“What?” Donna's heart froze solid, her stomach dropping to the floor. “No, Eric's not with me. He's not here?”

Jackie's mom tried to claim he'd been caught in traffic, but she'd just been out there, and there was no traffic. She'd have passed him on the road, or followed him into the parking lot. 

Eric just … wasn't here. 

There was silence, for a moment. And then Pam started going on about some damn lip gloss that didn't even _look good_ , and Donna couldn't stay here another second, lip gloss wasn't going to help because she wasn't a superficial _jerk_! She stormed out, furious and numb.

Jackie followed her out, followed her into the car. For once, she didn't try to fill the silence, just let Donna sit. 

Her hands gripped the wheel, too tight, white at the knuckles. “How could Eric do this to me?” Her voice almost broke, and she tried to force extra anger in to her tone. “What kind of horrible person skips out on someone they've known their whole life? I mean, someone they're supposed to love!” Someone like her. She had almost done the same thing, but she hadn't. She had shown up, had pushed through the gut-chilling fear and the trembling knees, and she ... Showed. Up. 

Donna slumped against the car door, holding her head against one hand, eyes shut tight, expecting tears but not able to find them.

“Uh-huh. Um. Donna, why is your suitcase in the back seat?”

“Oh, I was just … I don't know, I thought …. hey, I showed up, okay!” she defended herself. She turned the key with too much force, rubbed the skin on her fingers red and raw. She had shown up. He hadn't.

Jackie informed her they were all going to meet up at Red and Kitty's, and then she stayed quiet for the rest of the ride. She let her hand rest on Donna's thigh, and smoothed down the jumping muscles there, when the urge to run grew too strong to control.

Jackie was breathing louder than normal, Donna noticed. And evenly, like she was counting the seconds in her head. Donna found herself breathing to match. 

Oh. That must be why. It did feel a little better, she supposed.

She parked her car in her spot in the driveway, and walked zombie-like to the house next door. 

The Cruiser was gone.

Donna sat at the organ, where Fez normally sat. She just … couldn't. In his house, where every room had a thousand ghosts of him …. at least they didn't share the organ bench, hadn't laughed, kissed....

She took a shuddering breath. 

_Don't. Think about him._

Red picked up one of the large sugar cookies that Kitty had insisted on, asking what they were going to do with all of them.

“Gimme the groom,” Jackie demanded. Once she'd gotten it, she tossed it on the ground, and stomped it into the carpet, hair and dress bouncing with the force of it all. Then she flipped her hair up and smiled almost sunnily at Donna, but there was a meaner sort of fire in her eyes.

Pam, who apparently had no idea when to _shut up_ , started going on about rich men, and how none of them loved her like Eric loved Donna. 

Donna wanted to rip those over-glossed lips right off her too-tanned face. “Well, thanks, Pamela, but if Eric loved me, he'd be here right now.” She stood, marched to the yellow couch, sat down so close to Jackie she could have been on her lap. Folded her arms like Jackie had, tried to breathe like Jackie was.

And then the phone rang. Donna counted the rings like she counted Jackie's breathing. One, two, three-

Hyde took the call. 

It was Eric. 

Donna held her hands tight in her lap, back rigid, the room suddenly way too warm. Hyde offered to put her on, but he must have said no, because Hyde hung up. 

Said wrong number.

Said he wasn't coming. 

Not tonight, not ever.

Everyone was silent and still, but Donna felt like the statue back at Catholic school. Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow. Sad, forever. Heavy, couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

She felt a warmth on her hand. Jackie, it must be Jackie.

“I'm gonna go home.”

“I”ll go with you,” Jackie responded immediately.

Donna simply nodded.

Standing up was agony. Walking again even worse. They stopped in front of Hyde, Jackie must have said something. They passed Kelso in the driveway, but she couldn't stop to hear what he was blathering about. She just couldn't care.

Jackie helped her up the stairs. To her room. Got her out of the dress. Pushed a tank top on her, pushed her into bed. Turned off the light and climbed in next to her. “Come here, honey,” she whispered. 

Donna half-rolled into her, the best she could do. Jackie took over for the rest, pulled her in close and smoothed her hair away. 

“I'm so sorry.”

Donna smashed her face into Jackie's sweater. No, her own sweater, that Jackie was wearing. When it started getting wet, Jackie didn't get mad, just kept stroking her hair, and breathing nice and even. Murmured things that sounded nice, but meant nothing. “I'm sorry.” “You're not alone.” “We all love you so much.” Jackie didn't say his name.

Donna didn't want to say his name ever again.


	2. The Morning After

The next morning, at not quite dawn, Donna did not wake up alone. Jackie was still there, awake, but next to her. She hadn't even gotten up to put on new makeup, or fix her hair. She was all mussed up, messy and beautiful, something Donna rarely got to see.

“Hi, honey,” Jackie said softly, seeing her eyes blink open, search. “How are you feeling?”

Her throat felt half closed-up, almost like she'd been drinking too much the night before.

If only.

“Bad,” Donna supplied.

“I know, sweetie.” Jackie resumed playing with her hair. 

It felt nice. Felt important, like she meant something. To someone. Not him.

There was a clanging, a clambering at the window. Donna went rigid, gripped Jackie's arm. A skinny figure climbed through, dusted himself off. Approached her bed. 

Jackie flew up, grabbing Donna's book and beating him over the head with it.

“Hey, ow, stop, it's me!” he complained.

“I know!” Jackie snarled, gathering her grip up on the book and then smacking him across the face. He stumbled back, hand at his face. In the dim light, there was a dark glint on his cheek. Blood. Jackie had drawn blood.

“Jackie.” It was all she could say, but it was enough for Jackie to stop.

He glanced at Jackie, like he wanted her to leave, but he spoke anyway. “Donna, I'm so sorry. But I think we were about to make a huge mistake.”

“I know. I felt it too.” She sat up in bed, sighed. Looked him in the eye. “I never should have accepted your ring. Never should have agreed to date you in the first place. I don't want to love you, Eric. I never wanted to love you.”

He was crying, bleeding, reaching for her.

Jackie grabbed his arm, stopped him short. “Don't touch her.”

“I think you should go.”

“Donna...”

“No, Forman.” That's all he'd be to her now, just Forman. “Go.”

He stood there, frozen, but there was no way he could understand how she had stood when she found out he wasn't waiting at the rehearsal, and she felt nothing for him. No love, not anymore. Jackie pushed at him, and he left. 

Jackie returned to bed, and Donna sobbed into her hair, cried like she hadn't since her mom left her all alone. God, she'd kill to have her mom here, but Midge hadn't been able to find the money in time. And through it all, Jackie held her and whispered little comfort things, like how strong Donna was, how proud Jackie was, and true or not, it was good to hear. 

Jackie kissed her forehead, and Donna mouthed at her shoulders in return. When Donna moved up to meet her lips, Jackie did not stop her, did not pull back and talk about being smart, responsible. She let Donna be reckless, impulsive, indulgent. It had been a while, since they had done this. After Donna and Forman had gotten engaged, and Jackie and Hyde had gotten so serious, they had both agreed to let that slide, to prioritize their official relationships. 

Donna didn't care anymore. Donna didn't have an official relationship anymore. 

And she had missed this, more than she cared to admit, had missed the way Jackie's lips were confident against hers, the way Jackie's hands always tangled in her hair to control it even more. And Donna got to slip her hands around Jackie's hips, bask in the smooth skin, the curves. 

Donna didn't remember falling back asleep, but when she woke up the second time, her dad was at the door with a tray of handmade breakfast. Kitty must've made it.

Kitty would have made a great mother-in-law. Had been a great mother to her after Midge left. 

That dream was dead now, like many others.

But with the sunlight all around, with Kitty's best waffles in front of her, and Jackie beside her, Donna felt like she could breathe again. There were other dreams, dreams she'd held closer in her heart, for far longer, that she'd given up for this, and she could bring those back now, could finally follow through.

She offered a strawberry to Jackie, who accepted it easily, carefully. Bob hovered at the door, then moved away. 

Donna took up her fork and knife, cut off a piece of the waffle, smothered in Kitty's real butter and the maple syrup they bought from Canada even though Red complained about buying anything not American. Ate it slowly. Considered.

“Jackie. You're good at making plans, right.” It wasn't a real question. Jackie had plans for everything – how to become a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader, a weather girl, a fashion model. She had as many plans as she had lipsticks. 

“Yeah, of course.” Jackie turned to face her, a flash of concern on her face.

“Help me make a new plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of my pre-planned fix-it fics! Let me know if you have any ideas for more!


End file.
